


Building Up

by dirkapitated



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ALL OF IT, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Colorado, Denver, F/F, F/M, Humanstuck, M/M, Other, calliope and caliborn, coffee shop AU, collegestuck!au, humanstuck!au, its so queer i promise, this is so gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-20 19:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1522724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkapitated/pseuds/dirkapitated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave invests in a building, and it's much lower than his standard. As he tries to figure out what to do with it, he struggles with lack of money and has to stay in the dorms with a rather familiar roommate. Meanwhile, Dave ends up finding an old group of friends- some people he used to play a video game with when he was, like, thirteen. Nothing had changed with them other than age, but Dave feels like he'd changed too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the thing is, i've been wanting to create a good, substantial, citystuck! AU for a long time. When I took interior design and had to create a business, I created a cafe/bookstore/art shop and call it 'Incipis'. I realized, what if I took this into a story? So, here we are. This is a humanstuck AU, and most of the kids here are in college or late high school/going into college. This is a Johndave AU! (and also whatever other relationships I choose to add)

Your name is Dave Strider, and you don't know what you're looking at here.

The building is dilapidated, broken down, and dirty, but you're still standing here, your money is wasted, and the deed is in your hand.

"This was supposed to be a fucking finished building. Like, as in, meeting the fucking requirements of the fucking city." you said over the phone, pressed to your ear as you looked over the deed.

The previous landlord made an 'I dunno' sort of noise, and you growled, hanging up.

So, the big question was: what now?

\---

"What now?" John asked over the phone, sounding nervous to you, at least.

"Look, man. I dunno. I moved here to see if I could get a fucking fresh start, but it looks like that's not happening. Goddamn owner of the place was a fucking  _scam._ " You ran a hand through your hair, sighing. John was your best friend, but he didn't exactly provide the best of support at these times.

"A fresh start?" John piped in. "Dave, you moved here for college. We all did."

"We all did?" You felt very out of some kind of loop here, and you didn't like it. You were Dave Strider, you were supposed to be 'with it'. Not some kind of platonic third wheel. Or fourth, in this case.

John sighed in exasperation. "Didn't I tell you about how Rose and Jade are going to be roommates this year?"

You shook your head, before saying, "Uh, no. Dude, you're supposed to tell me these things. It's important to know if my twin sister will be going to the same school as me. Then I can take precautions to  _avoid_ her."

The dark-haired boy laughed, making the phone line crackle. "Dude, why would you ever want to avoid Rose? She's nice, and funny, and sweet. And she's also super smart!"

Ugh, here goes John, gushing about this dumb pseudo-crush over your sister again. You'd wish he would just shut up sometimes, but you could never seriously tell him that. You loved the poor kid too much. John had been your best friend for years, even before you started playing this dumb video game you all got obsessed with. Man, you missed those times. You had so much fun.

The thing is, you know everyone is expecting you to go out on a tangent about how much you love John, and it's in  _that_ way, but John just isn't a homosexual, and he's obviously not interested in you, blah blah blah. You'd gotten the lecture from Rose about sexuality too many times to even bother with that. John was your friend, end of story. And if he did want to like, fuck you hard up against the wall? Who cares. Let the Egbert boy do what he wants.

You just never tell anybody you'd like him ravaging your body in more ways than one, because that would be weird. And you are anything but weird, you're cool. 

Maybe you just try too hard.

"Okay, Dave. How about this. I'll be in Denver in a few hours, how about you just, like, I dunno, try to get signed up for your classes at CU? I don't mind sharing a dorm with you, that's why my dad payed extra money to make sure I could choose a roommate."

"You can do that?"

"Well, my dad is like, the co-owner of Betty Crocker, no matter how much I refuse to admit it. He has plenty of monetary values at his disposal, and-"

"Would you shut up with the dumb nerd vocabulary? No one wants to hear it. Just go back to talking about con air or something."

"Dude, I told you, I hate that movie!"

"Whatever dude. You loved it too long for me not to make a joke about it."

"Guh. Look, I'm about to get on my flight. Just chill for a few hours, okay? I'll be landing at six."

"Alright."

Click.

The thing is, you'd already gotten enrolled online. Printed everything out you needed, done and done. Now you were stuck in uptown Denver, with your ratty truck and some old building. Speaking of the structure in question, once you looked it over again, it wasn't  _that_  bad, really. It was just... dirty, you guessed. You decided that maybe it was a good idea to look inside, see what you could do. If it was too rotten or old, you may just resell, but who knows how long that would take. The thing is, the business was in a good location, right off of a main street, and you could probably make really good money, with it being basically on college campus. Denver was really cramped, and a lot like Houston in one way or another, but it was cooler here, and significantly less people were talking in accents or asking you where the nearest liquor store was. Those were the radical stereotypes, but they were everyday occurrences in your previous home.

The other thing is, the view of the mountains was awesome. 

And you suspected a lot of other people enjoyed it, too; there were outdoorsman and mountaineering stores everywhere, and lots of people seemed to come to Colorado just for that reason. Personally, you liked the fact that gay marriage and pot were both illegal. And also the running trails. The running trails were pretty great, too. Or so you'd heard. You'd only just gotten to Denver, so you'd have to check that out.

Anyways, the only thing you should be checking out right now is the inside of this building.

You sigh, walking up to the wooden door, grasping the knob on it. Why does an entry door have a knob? So weird. The door creaks loudly as you push it open, revealing... an empty room, really.

Upon closer inspection, it's all wood floors. Dark, good wood, and it doesn't look too worn, which you guess isn't that bad. The paint on the walls, once a bright red and a neon green, is peeling off, and dust motes hang in the light beams from the half-covered windows. You jump slightly as a rat skitters across the room and through a closet door on your far left.

"This place is creepy." You mutter to yourself, watching your step as you walked over to the closet. There were nails scattered all over the floor, along with broken, splintered pieces of wood. And.. was that blood on the wall over there? No wonder this place was so cheap. It was fucking haunted.

On the side of the room you'd walked over to, there was an extension of the wall about six or seven feet- probably to accommodate for a bathroom on the other side. There was a couple counters that seems in good repair- a grey-brown granite, mostly, and a case probably once used for pastries on one side. There was an ancient-looking cash register covered in strange, swirled stickers on the lower counter, but every other counter was raised up in the front, to reveal sinks and old appliances under the overhang of the top. It was much similar to a Starbucks, you thought as you saw a counter on the other side. This one had a large sink, an old, moldy blender, and a gap by the wall that looked as if it used to accommodate a mini-fridge. 

Your first idea was to take this old business, clean it out, and turn it into a club or a music store. But that didn't seem like a very good idea, now that you were looking at the layout. Walking up to the closet, you saw it wasn't really a closet, but a hallway, probably for storage and workers. You stepped in, hoping you didn't see the rat from earlier as you took a moment to dust off your dark jeans.

When you looked up, the first thing you saw was a door to a large freezer, and you shuddered. You didn't want to know what was in there, and you walked past it, down some dark hallway. you saw a door that most likely led to a bathroom- you'd have to make a door for customers, you guessed, if there wasn't one already- and then a few lockers, all open and empty. They were all a pale gray except for two, which were bright red and neon green. That is so weird. Maybe the previous owner had some issue with christmas colors.

Then, at the end of the hallway, there was something covered with a sheet.

You tilted your head in curiosity, stepping over to it and pulling the sheet off, bracing yourself for something dead.

But instead of some ancient murder scene, there was a painting.

It was huge, too; at least five feet tall and probably seven or eight feet wide. It was a painting of a planet- a large, blue one with clouds surrounding it, almost seeming to move over the surface. There was a smaller, yellow planet next to it, with its own moon, and it was glowing. At least thirty small, detailed planets surrounded it, each with a symbol next to it. You recognized familiar ones; breath, light, time, space. Then there was a band of meteors- each one seeming to have a certain symbol connected to it, too- and then a purple, glowing planet outside of that. Even farther, there was a bright, cosmic outline, and you stopped focusing on minute details to see that the entire planetary system was inside the giant outline of a frog. The background was deep black, with strange, bright shatters that seemed like glass around the edges.

To anyone who hadn't played that game, it would seem completely strange and random, but for you it gave you a horrible, gripping sense of nostaliga and fear.

You had to tell someone about this.

 


	2. Cleaning is really hard, and so is talking to your best friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave and a certain someone clean up the old place. meanwhile, dave meets john. also, where the fuck is karkat? no one knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, chapter two! im so sorry it's so long. i tend to word vomit.

"Wait, you mean it's exactly like the game?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"Okay, chill, you absolute fuckwad. Like, all the elements? Skaia, Prospit, Derse, the Veil?"

"Yes!" You growled. As if you weren't already frustrated.

The certain, rather annoying guy you were talking to went by the name of Karson Vantas. He was a short, slightly chubby kid, with black hair and, admittedly, red eyes. Apparently he had ocular albinism, much similar to your condition. And you thought you were special. However, this kid wore contacts like you wore shades- all the time, and much to other people's annoyance. They were gray, like his text in any chat client that offers a color, and he was way too insecure about it.

"Okay, look. Erin knows a lot about this kind of stuff, I'll talk to him. Maybe there's some superstitious answer, which he'll probably claim to be 'science'. But who the fuck cares, whatever. I'm coming down to see this."

Karson, as far as you knew, was pretty fucking gay, and that was saying something. Well, pretty fucking pansexual would be a more accurate word. He wore skinny jeans and sweaters with collared shirts under them, probably with flower print vans and a ratty backpack, usually full of old romance novella. Most of it is his current boyfriend, Erin Ampora's, influence. You had no idea why they started dating, because they never show affection in public and they act more like best friends than two boys actually in a relationship. But you didn't judge. Karson didn't like saying he was gay, and you respected that. You didn't care much what people had in their pants, either. Especially if it was John.

You need to stop thinking about that boy.

"Okay, okay. I already texted you the address, right?"

"Yeah. And so help me Strider, if this is a lie or some quote unquote 'ironic' ruse-"

"Dude, why would I fucking lie about this?"

"I know you of all people would find a reason."

You sighed. "Okay, point made."

"I'll be there in a few hours." Karson had lived in the far south of Colorado for a while, and he was also going to attend CU, though it would be later in the semester when he started. It had been what initially sparked you to come up to the Mountain State to do your education, and John had followed, along with Jade, and now Rose, apparently. Karson was a friend, though a grumpy friend, to all four of you, and the four of your older siblings you each had.

Speaking of, you also needed to call your bro and tell him what's up. He'd forced you to have near-constant contact with him ever since you decided to go out of state. The douchebag tended to forget you weren't a baby anymore. But calling Dirk could wait, for now, maybe, it was a good idea to get some cleaning done. So, you put your phone in your pocket, walked out to your truck, and got out a broom and dustpan, ready to get ready to work on removing the layer of dust from the wood. As you stripped down to your black tank top, you saw a rather interesting girl standing down the street, sipping from a red cherry slurpee. You jutted your chin at her in a less than adequate greeting, and she smiled, wide, a toothy grin that spread from ear to ear. She looked like one of those rangier girls- she had dirty blonde hair with red splotches, as if she had attempted kool-aid dip dying but she had gotten bored. Freckles, similar to yours, dotted her face and neck, and she was wearing strange red-tinted glasses. Her eyes behind her glasses seemed bloodshot, and she was holding a strange sort of cane as she walked over to you, her tongue flicking over her teal-lipsticked lips.

"Hello there." she said, and you winced. She was rather loud. "I heard you over here, and thought I might get a closer look. Are you the one who is going to occupy this building?"

You nod, but she still looks expectant, so you say, "Um. Yeah. Name's Dave."

"Ah! Okay," she stuck her tongue out at you, and you took a slow step back.

"If you haven't noticed yet, I am, indeed, blind." The girl cackled as she slipped her glasses down her pointed nose, raising dark eyebrows at you. So this chick was blind, huh? Maybe you could leave without her knowing, if you just... yeah, just grab the broom and- "Not so fast." the girl prodded you with her cane. "I can still hear you, dummy. And... " she took a deep breath through her nose. "Smell you."

Okay, this girl was seriously weird.

"My name is Teresa, but you can call me TZ." Teresa smiled, and licked her lips. "I just came here to warn the new owner of this place."

"Why would someone want to warn me about this place, it's completely fine." You said nonchalantly.

"Have you even been inside yet?" You nodded, deciding to play stupid for now.

Maybe then she'd stop sniffing you, which is what she was doing now. "Hmm. It seems you have been inside. You did seem particularly distressed when you were on your cellular device." She laughed again, and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, what do you want, a job? Because I'm not a charity home."

"What? No," Teresa said, sounding slightly hurt. "As much as I would /love/ to work here..." oh, the sarcasm, "the only charity being dished out will be by _me_." She drug a finger up your chin, and you stepped back again, wondering if it was okay to call the authorities on this chick. "Great injustice went down here long ago."

"Great injustice. Okay, what happened? Did someone get hung in the back hallway or something?"

Teresa's face went from challenging to appalled, and surprised. "How how did you know?" You blinked. This girl was either full of bullshit, or this business was the worst decision you've ever made.

"I didn't. It was just an exaggeration."

"You shouldn't ever exaggerate when it comes to this place, mister Strider." She pointed her cane at the building, almost accusingly. "This place used to be called Jives and JuJus, and they sold the best candy in the city. It was red, and sweet, and _so_ delectable." She cackled. "Needless to say, I went there every day. Two people ran it- twins. One named Caliborn- he was dark-skinned, and very loud, and angry- and Calliope." Her voice softened. "Calliope was very nice," she sighed. "She was light-skinned and had very light hair, and these piercing green eyes. She was an amazing artist, and loved painting."

You listened in silence. Things were clicking together in your mind, and you felt sick.

"One day, Calliope decided to create a huge painting, of this place called-"

"The incipisphere." You said quietly.

"Yes! Yes," Teresa said. "You are so smart, Dave! I'm so proud of you." She giggled, poking you with her cane again before becoming serious. "However, legend has it, when she finished it, she tried to hang it on the wall... But Caliborn was angry. His sister was stealing his thunder, and Caliborn just couldn't have that. So, once they had closed up shop on November eleventh of last year, he attacked his twin ruthlessly. And then," She grinned. "He hung her from the ceiling!" The girl tilted her head back, laughing. Damn, this girl laughed a lot.

"And this is all legend. As in, no one saw it happen, so no one can confirm this. This story is more bullshit than the Apollo moon alien story."

"Oh, no, I saw it. Me and Vanessa both did! A gurney was dragged out of the place the next day, but Caliborn had disappeared! No one knows where he went, or what he's up to."

"And the moral of this story is...?" you leaned back against your truck. When are you going to get any work done?

"All I'm saying is that this place is dangerous. Make sure to lock your doors at night, okay?" Teresa stood up straight, pressing her hands to her lower back and stretching. "Also, I'd be more than happy to take you up on that job offer, Strider. You know where to contact me." Then the strange girl turned on her heel, poking her cane at any foreseeable object as she ambled back up the street.

You held up a finger, confused. "Hold up, how do you know my last name? I never told you." You felt like you were missing something big here, and you stepped towards the girl this time, your eyebrows furrowed.

Teresa only turned around halfway. and she was staring at a wall, though most likely unintentionally, as she spoke. "Have you really not figured it out yet?" She said tiredly. "Put the pieces together, Dave. Deduct." All this talk or justice was sparking familiarity somewhere, and you searched the girl with your eyes, thinking. Red tank top, teal shorts... a Libra sign, stark white, on her shirt. A Libra sign.

Then, it clicked. "Gallows...Calibrator?" You said slowly.

Teresa clapped her hands, smiling. "Yes! Good job, mister coolkid. Case closed." She was about to leave, before you cleared your throat again.

"You want a job?"

Teresa put a finger to her lips, which were now formed in a slight pout. "Well, I do suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some extra money." You reached into your truck, and then tossed the girl a bottle of cleaning solution and a roll of paper towels. You cursed under your breath, realizing you had forgotten about her blindness as the bottle hit the ground by her feet. The paper towels hit her smack in the face, though, and she stepped back, flinching.

"Ow!" She said, rubbing her nose. "What was that for?"

"Sorry. Looks like you're just bad at catching. Think I can teach a blind girl new tricks?"

Teresa grinned, tossing her slurpee, still half-full, in a nearby trash can. "Yes, you can."

\--

It didn't take long for the two of you to realize that this would take much longer than first expected. You'd been sweeping for about an hour and a half already, and you haven't broken much ground. Only about half the room was somewhat clean, and you were sweaty, and also covered in dirt. And also, for some reason, glitter? Whoever Calliope and Caliborn had been, they were fucking weird.

Teresa was working on the counters by the cash register. All she had found in the old thing were a few, cracked, ancient-looking lollipops, and then you had both decided to promptly throw the the thing out, tossing it, along with a moldy blender and some old wood, out in the dumpster in the back alleyway. After that was done, she'd made good progress, though you were surprised. She seemed to have a heightened sense of smell after being blinded at a young age, she said, but due to the dust being kicked up she sneezed a whole hell of a lot. However, she refused to use noseplugs,for even allergy meds, as she claimed she could 'smell the grime that deserved a squeaky-clean death'. You just shrugged and went with it, but as you saw the sun setting, you decided to take a break. Just to ease your back and Teresa's, who seemed to have some kind of issue. She popped it a lot, stopping to grip a surface and twist her back. Maybe from leaning over a computer so much.

"So... you're going to CU now?" Teresa said, taking a bite into a sandwich she'd bought when she went to the seven-eleven down the road to get more paper towels.

"Yeah." You mumbled around a mouthful of your own sandwich. Turkey and Swiss, hell yes.

"Oh, that's cool. Me too. I'm studying law." You looked up, feigning surprise. "Wow, really? I never would've thought... you, of all people. In law school."

"Shut up!" She said, shoving you lightly. "And what are you studying, the art of romanticizing dead things?"

"Nope. Photography, actually."

"So you mean the art of learning how to take the best selfie?"

"Yeah, I'll be fucking bomb. I'll fucking win the gold medal in the proverbial selfie olympics. It'll be around my neck. The medal is as good as mine."

"The art of the selfie Olympics!" She grinned.

"Is everything an art to you? Like, is this is art if covering up a murder scene and then eating shitty convenience store sandwiches?"

"Hmm. Yes, I like that. The art of spring cleaning, for short."

"It's fall."

"Fall cleaning!" She passed her tongue over her lips before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"Sure." You said compliantly, sipping on the slurpee she'd bought you, also cherry.

"So, is the angry gray kid coming too?"

"Karson?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, cool! Are you gonna give him a job, too?"

"Well, let's just keep you as the only employee until we actually start getting income, okay? I can't afford anyone who isn't being paid in cherry suckers and a ride." You'd agreed that, until further notice, Teresa would be paid by being able to use your car when you were at classes- she did her college online, and Vanessa, her stepsister and also good friend, took her car with her because her classes weren't within walking distance. You also agreed you would give her any red candy you happened upon.

"Yeah, alright. When is he gonna be here?"

"Soon, hopefully. Probably an hour." Suddenly, your phone buzzed, and you held up a finger.

Teresa grinned mischeviously, and as soon as you picked it up, not bothering to look at the caller ID, she yelled, "Pass the weed, Strider!" and then proceeded to make a variety of strange noises.

"Yo." you said, covering your other ear so you could hear the phone.

"Dave? Where are you?" John's voice, tinny through the phone, reached your ears, and you smiled, settling down with your knees pulled up to your chest. Teresa grew quiet.

"Uptown Denver."

"Where is uptown Denver?" You heard a loud car horn and a muffled profanity.

"Um, north of downtown? Or something. Dude, just ask someone, do you think I know my way around this city? If i was navigator, you'd be in Dallas right now."

"I can't ask someone, I don't know anyone here!"

"Google maps? I texted you the address."

"You did?"

You shook your head, frustrated. John rarely read his texts unless you told him to through pesterchum or by actually calling him. It was annoying, but just another thing about dealing with John Egbert. Which you did, because you liked him and he was your best, and pretty much only, friend. it was hard for you to make friends most of the time. You had high standards.

"Oh." John said, shortly. "You did, heh."

"Mhmm."

"Yeah, okay... I'll be there in five minutes." John said, and you heard a car engine in the background.

"See you soon, Dave!"

"Sounds good. Don't get hit by a car, dude."

"I'm in a car!"

"You know what I mean."

John giggled, this light, girly thing that sent shivers down your spine. "Yeah, I know." Then he hung up, and you exhaled, burying your face in your knees, pulling them tighter against you.

In five minutes, John would be here. You haven't seen John in person since he was thirteen and you were fourteen, on your birthday. Before then, you two saw each other rather often, but after that, middle school was coming to an end and high school was starting, for you, at least. You uses to wonder why John was so ypung and in your grade, but then he revealed that he had skipped the third grade because he knew pretty much everything about American history. One more year of middle school, and both of you were freshman. Then, things got busy, and it was hard to see John, or even pester him, for a while. Once sophomore year started you got in a big fight over that dumb video game, and then you both vowed to stop playing it, once you'd made nice. The thing is, you still played it, every once in a while, just in sandbox mode by yourself. You knew that he still played, too. John never used his Xbox for anything else, and he was online almost every day.

"Who was that?" Teresa asked, a hint of taunt in her voice. You swallowed, averting your eyes as you rubbed the back of your neck.

"Erm, no one. Just another friend. He's the guy I'll be rooming with the entire year. He's just... kind of a dork, and hard to talk to sometimes." You laughed nervously, scrolling down your call history pointlessly. Most of them were John, and a few were Bro, who in your phone was called 'pretentious puppet asshat' because that's exactly what he was, dammit.

"Is it the blue kid?" Teresa asked.

"The blue kid?"

"Yeah, the one from when we were all, like thirteen? But he was only twelve."

"John?"

"Ghostytrickster?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"His voice hasn't really changed much. So he's coming too, huh?" The girl smirked, outstretching an arm and poking you with her cane.

"Yeah, he is."

"It sounds like someone has a man-crush." Teresa's voice was sing-song as she prodded you a few more times, and you swatted her cane away.

"No." You said, sounding more like a child rather than a grown man. Godammit, get your shit together.

"You totally do. How long till he gets here?"

"Few minutes."

"Cool. Now finish your sandwich, you doof."

You did, and you were just tossing the wrapper in the trash can out front when a blue minivan pulled up, nearly smashing into the back of your pickup. Smooth. John had never been too good at driving, from what he'd told you, mostly because he could walk anywhere he needed to go in Seattle. Hopefully, for the most part, it would be the same here. You slid your hands into your pockets as you stepped up to the car, and you tried to ignore how clammy they were as the door opened.

"Dave!"

Suddenly, you were being bowled over-- you fell back on your ass, wincing slightly as John fell on top of you, laughing.

"Dude, get off." You mumbled, shoving him. God this kid was heavy. John did as you told, looking down on you as he laughed, the corners of his lips turned up and the edges of his eyes barely crinkling as he grinned down at you, and you gulped, forcing your jaw to stay shut. He was straddling your thighs, and you felt vulnerable, almost, though mostly you were taken aback.

John was, in a word, attractive. Very attractive. He was Hispanic, so he had this dark, lightly freckled caramel skin- completely opposite to your pasty white complexion, covered in reddish-brown freckles due to sun damage. His brown-black hair was messy and rather wispy, and his glasses were pushed up into it, glaring with the sunlight. Even with his dark complexion, he still had these piercing blue eyes. Blue, like the screen you get when the monitor is on but the computer is off. Blue like a sky colored in by a small child,  intense and almost unnatural. You thought they were pretty, though, even if others didn't.

"You okay, dude?" John poked you in the chest, still smiling. You nodded, sitting up, realizing you were kind of gawking.

"Yeah. But could you get off of me? You're kind of heavy."

"Wait, are you calling me fat?" John said, with a look of mock offense on his face.

"Yes, John. You are the fattest fatass I have ever seen."

"Gee, thanks buddy. What a good thing to hear from you." The dark-haired boy got up, stepping back, and he looked up at the building. Now that he was standing, you realized he had at least a few inches on you, heightwise. God fucking dammit.

"So this is it, huh? Is it done yet?"

"What do you think?"

"Um... no? I guess."

"There's your answer. Jesus dick, I just got here, John. Give it a couple days."

"Did you get registered yet?"

"Yep. Online."

"Okay... wait, you can do that?"

"Yep."

"Well, do you mind if I take a look inside? I wanna see all the work you got done already."

"Well, uh-"

"Dave and me only just started, silly. It's a mess in there, still. Did you know that someone got hu-" You cut off the blonde girl, glaring at her as her jaw snapped shut.

"Teresa."

"Okay, okay. Fine. Are you gonna show him the painting, though?"

"What painting?" John inquired, looking excited. "I wanna see!"

"Oh, right, yeah. Dude, you have to see it. It's the creepiest shit."

"Well, just don't try to scare me with any fake ghosts, dude! You know I know they're not real." He poked you in the side, and you flinched, scowling. You'd always been ticklish, and you hated it.

"Just follow me, dude. Here comes the ghost slime express. I'm gonna cover you in the stuff, I swear. You'll look like the symbol on your dumb shirt when I'm done with you."

"Ew, gross!" John made a face, and you just rolled your eyes, stepping inside. How can such an adult-looking guy still act like he's thirteen? You don't know. John Egbert is a mystery.

Carefully stepping around cleaning supplies, you showed John into the back hallway, and you heard him make a slightly disgusted noise as he saw the freezer.

" Do you think there's a body on there, Dave?" He whispered.

"Dunno. Haven't checked yet."

You heard John shudder audibly, and you walked to the back of the hall, pulling the sheet off the painting rather anticlimactically  where you'd replaced it earlier, thinking it would make the place at least a little cleaner.

"Woah, what?" John had a look of awe on his face as he stepped forward, running his fingers down the stretched canvas. "No way. It's just like..."

"The game, I know." You sigh, turning your head to look at the profile of his face, some of it enveloped in the inky darkness of the hallway.

"That is so weird." He said suddenly, standing up. "Are you gonna hang it up?"

"Maybe, not sure yet." There was a long silence before John spoke again.

"You should," he said wistfully. You knew what he was looking at, but you didn't respond. "But it's getting late. Maybe it's time for us both to get to the dorms, okay?"

"You're already unpacked?" You raised your eyebrows.

The blue-eyed boy drew his lip between his teeth, an old habit of his. "Well, no," he said slowly, "But the beds are already there. We can just grab a few blankets and hit the hay, I'm exhausted."

" _You're_ exhausted? Dude, I drove, like, twelve hours and swept half the floor in that place."

"Only half?"

"Would you shut up? You saw the layer of dust on that damned floor. It's a mess."

John laughed. "Yeah, I know. I'm just messing with you. Now let's go, I wanna sleep."

Then, John trudged over to his van, and you saw Teresa getting into your truck.

"Hey!" you barked, walking up to the driver's side window.

Teresa laughed. "Part of the deal, Strider."

\--

 Eventually, you had gotten all your bags out of the back of your pickup, tossing them haphazardly into the back seat of John's car as you drove to the dorm complex. Teresa had taken your pickup to 'run some errands', and then she'd return it. You were just glad for the extra help. Teresa was pretty cool, no matter how much you didn't want to admit it. Something about the blindness.

You offered to drive, but John refused, arguing he needed 'practice'. You had just rolled your eyes, leaning the passenger seat back and crossing your arms over your chest, closing your eyes, the sunset still burning through your eyelids.

About ten minutes later, your eyes flew open as you saw John carrying in both yours and his bags. "Fucking showoff," you muttered as you sat up, opening the door and hopping out. "How did he end up taller than me, I swear."

"What was that?" John had turned around, this shit-eating grin on his face. You groaned inwardly. John was also an asshole. You forgot that part.

"Nothing. Just bitching about your hospitality." You walked up to the front doors that led to the dorms, opening them and trudging up the stairs, John in tow, giggling at you. You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but you didn't. It wasn't worth it. As you walked down the hallway, you'd realized you'd just left Karson hanging. Man, you wondered how many missed calls you had. Shaking your head, laughing, you turned around, looking at John.

"What room number?"

"Um, A317, I think?"

You nodded, glad there weren't too many more stairs as you reached the second, then the third floor, scaling the last few steps and finding John's room. You waited for him, and he quickly stepped in front of you, dropping a few bags as he fumbled for his key.

"You know, I could have carried a few of those." You said, smirking.

"Shut up. You would have whined about carrying your own bags anyway." He stuck his tongue out at you, and you laughed. So dorky. Finally, John managed to get the door open- that kid has, like, eight hundred keys- and you both dropped your bags on the floor inside. The dorm room was small- it had a small sink and mirror, two bunk beds, a small countertop with cabinets that kind of resembled a kitchen, and then a door that opened to the bathroom, most likely.

You flopped down on the bottom bunk, lying down on your back, groaning with how comfortable the bed felt. You just wanted to sleep _right now,_ and nothing was going to stop you.

 "Oh, no you don't." John said, laying down next to you. He had a large, blue comforter, which he was holding in his overlarge hands. You smirked as you tilted your head to look at him, realizing the kid kind of had yaoi hands. So funny. You have to remember to tease him about that later.

"Too tired." You mumbled.

"Not without me, at least." Suddenly, you were being enveloped in a warm pair of arms, and you tensed.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Cuddling you."

"Dude, you're like, eighteen."

"Yeah?"

You sighed in defeat, leaning back and curling up slightly, which made John pull you closer to him, and you closed your eyes. You could smell his cologne or his detergent or something, and damn did it smell good. Like clothes fresh out of the dryer, but it smelled more spicy, or manly or something. Man, you were such a sap, you thought as you relaxed, though slowly.

"Goodnight, Dave." John said, burying his face in your hair.

"Night, John." you replied, already half-asleep.

You dreamed of clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so im really tired and too lazy to proofread right now. if you see any errors, tell me, and i'll fix it!
> 
> hope you enjoyed!
> 
> OH and by the way: my blog is pandamist.tumblr.com if you want to follow me, but im kind of a dork

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it for the first chapter! I'm pretty sure you can probably piece it together by now about what happened here. Next chapter should be out soon!


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